


Five Years

by orphan_account



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, First Love, Heartbreak, Love at First Sight, Marriage of Convenience, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Multi, Pining, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 12:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10662804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A lot can change in five years but Éomer discovers one constant, his love for Faramir.Snap shots in the life of Éomer from age 8 to 48.





	Five Years

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings.
> 
> So I decided to step out of my comfort zone of Star Trek. I recently fell into a hole called Éomer/Faramir. It's a really small hole so I thought I'd make it deeper before I climbed out (I'm not climbing out.)
> 
> Also I'm not Tolkien, as stated above, and I'm not even going to pretend to write in his flowery language.

When Éomer was eight his uncle allowed him to travel to Gondor with his cousin Théodred. If Éomer was honest with himself he was bored. His cousin spent all his time either negotiating in meeting rooms Éomer wasn’t allowed in or spending time with Boromir who didn’t wish to cater to an eight-year-old.

On the third day, Éomer took to wandering around Minas Tirith. His excitement upon finding the stable dimmed a little when he saw the horses inside, they were not as grand as the horses of Rohan. None the less they were horses so Éomer spent the afternoon in the stable, occasionally avoiding those who wandered in.

A commotion at the door had Éomer ducking back down behind a bale of hay. A young man, of sixteen or so years, had entered the stable. Éomer was struck by the way the man’s bronze hair caught the sunlight slipping through the gaps in the stable roof. The man carried himself with confidence Éomer one day hoped to mimic but he also walked with a hesitance. He seemed almost thoughtful of every step.

Éomer watched as the man took his horse to her stable. The man’s gentle urgings and soft voice had Éomer smitten. This was a man who respected his horse. The gentle nature combined with an unnatural beauty had Éomer wanting to beg for the man’s name.

When the man finally left the stable, with one last rub of his steed’s nose, Éomer shook himself out of his daze. He was of noble birth, second in line for the thrown of Rohan. He shouldn’t be resting behind a bale of hay day dreaming about a man twice his age. Besides, boy don’t like boys, Théodred said so.

\---

When Éomer was thirteen Gondor sent representatives down to Edoras. Théodred seemed excited to have Boromir visiting. Éomer and Éowyn were not nearly excited as they expected this meant their cousin would be ignoring them. When the delegation came it turned out Denethor has sent both his sons. Éomer wasn’t paying enough attention to the introductions to know who was who but he sorely regretted it when he noticed the bronze haired man from the barn.

Éowyn called him weird and said he could come play with her when he stopped being creepy. Éomer didn’t care what Éowyn thought he wanted to get to know the bronze haired man but every time he went to make a move to greet him Éomer would hesitate. It didn’t help that the boy was apparently old enough to spend the occasional afternoon sparing with Boromir and Théodred.

Théodred caught him on the third to last night the Gondor representatives would be in Edoras.

“He wouldn’t be interested.” Théodred said. Éomer stayed silent and acted as if he was unaware of his cousins meaning.

Théodred continued regardless. “He’s a Captain, and twenty-one years. He wouldn’t be interested in spending time with a boy making his way through puberty. Especially with what you have on your mind. Boys don’t like other boys, Éomer.”

\---

When Éomer was eighteen he was sent to negotiate a land trade with Gondor on behalf of his uncle and as his first duty as the Third Marshal. Éomer was walking through the city paying more attention to the words of his guide more than he truly needed. Apparently he paid them too much attention as he crashed into someone while walking.

Éomer landed on his ass as his guide shouted, “Marshal are you alright?”

Éomer felt an arm helping him up but was quickly dropped in favor of the man he had bumped into. “Captain Faramir!” Was shouted by Éomer’s guide as he moved towards the other downed man.

“I can get up by myself. Go help our guest.” The other man ordered. His voice caused Éomer’s head to shoot up. The voice was the same soft, tender and kind voice he had been so enchanted by in the stable ten years prior. Éomer was surprised he had remembered it but he was even more surprised by how he had forgot the beauty of the man.

The man, Faramir, had already lifted himself from the ground and was now moving over to assist Éomer’s guide who was failing to lift the horseman. Éomer realized he was not helping matters by becoming a deadweight and began to stand up under his own power.

Faramir grabbed his arm and lifted him the rest of the way. Faramir’s grip was firm and Éomer wasn’t sure what to do with the surge of heat heading south and settling in his groin and belly.

“My apologies,” Faramir said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’ve explored these streets since I could walk. You can get over confidant about where you’re stepping and find the grounds changed, or rather there’s something in the way.” Faramir’s eyes went wide. “Not, that you were in the way or anything.”

Éomer lips twitched up. “I should apologize as well. I was too busy taking in the new sights to bother watching for hazards in the road. Not that you were a hazard or anything.”

Faramir blushed. “You are making fun of me,” he said with a slight pout.

Éomer thought it unfair that he had such a dangerous weapon to wield while Éomer felt nearly naked under the blue gaze. “Only a little,” Éomer replied with a smirk.

A cough from off to the side drew the men’s attention and with that they realized that Faramir still had ahold of Éomer’s arm.

Faramir released his arm and presented his hand to Éomer for a handshake. “I am Captain Faramir, Son of Denethor II Stewart of Gondor.”

Éomer returned the hand shake. “I am Éomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark, Son of Éomund, sister son of Théoden King.”

“Ah,” Faramir said, “You are the one my father has been waiting for. Boromir will be handling most of the negotiations.”

Éomer felt a slight disappointment rush through him. “Will you not be in attendance?” Éomer asked.

Faramir seemed surprised by the question and blushed as he answered, “I have to patrol along the borders. You will probably be gone by the time I return.”

Faramir bit his lip, as if he hadn’t meant for the last part to slip out. He nodded to Éomer. “I will leave you here then.”

Faramir left with haste. Éomer was extremely disappointed to discover Faramir had been right, the negotiations ended long before Faramir returned.

\---

Éomer was twenty-three and on patrol himself the next time he ran into Faramir. Éomer knew the two groups could cover more ground if they patrolled separately and combined their information but he suggested staying together instead.

Faramir nodded to the suggestion of staying together due to a high rate of threats in the area as of late. If the two men had ulterior motives, neither said them out loud.

Two days into their combined patrol Faramir snuck into Éomer’s tent. Éomer couldn’t help but laugh when he heard the echo of Théodred saying boys don’t like boys in the back of his head.

That night and the nights that followed were some of the best nights Éomer had ever experienced. Faramir made him feel alive and hopeful. Faramir made him feel loved. Éomer didn’t want to lose that feeling but the day for departure came.

“When we meet again?” Éomer asked extending his arm out to Faramir.

Faramir returned the gesture. “If fate wills it,” was the reply Éomer received. He wasn’t sure he liked that answer.

\---

Éomer was twenty-eight when the War of the Ring ended. He was both mourning the death of his uncle and celebrating the life of his sister and their victory. Éomer made his was swiftly to the Halls of Healing where he knew his sister to be. If he was hoping to also run into Faramir, who was rumored to be there as well, only he needed to know.

Éomer heard his sister’s voice drifting from a private room and rounded the corner swiftly. Éowyn was holding hands with a man but quickly released him in order to throw herself at her brother. Éomer gathered his sister into his arms. When Éowyn started squirming Éomer released her, barely.

He finally got a good look at the man who had been holding his sister’s hand and wished desperately that he hadn’t.

It was Faramir, the man who stole a young Éomer’s heart and never bothered to return it. Seeing the way Faramir stared at his sister, Éomer could only hope he would be gentler with Éowyn’s heart than he was with Éomer’s.

A few months later Éomer King gave his sister away to the love of his life.

\---

At Éomer’s thirty-third birthday Faramir introduced him to his cousin Lothíriel. She was beautiful and kind, much like her cousin. Unlike Faramir’s bronze hair which shined in the light, her black hair seemed to absorb it. Her brown eyes shined with a similar intelligence but Éomer couldn’t help but think the intelligence looked better in blue. If Éomer had a choice, he would not take a wife but a reinforcement of the Gondor and Rohan alliance could not go amiss after his sister’s miscarriage and it wasn’t like Éomer would ever marry for love anyway. 

Éomer King and Princess Lothíriel were married in the spring. He felt bad for it, but he did not confess his sexual desires until the wedding night. Even then he didn’t tell her which man stirred both his heart and loins.

Éomer could not be more grateful to Lothíriel for being so understanding of his hesitance with her in the bedroom. When Lothíriel miscarried a few months later it caused discourse between Gondor and Rohan. No one knew which family was causing the inability to have children. Éomer didn’t particularly care who’s fault if was. He had never planned for a child in the first place, but now he found he desperately wanted one.

\---

When Éomer turned thirty-eight it was a shared birthday with his two-year-old nephew, Elboron. Éomer loved his sister’s son more than anything, except for maybe his sister’s husband. Not only was the child as fascinated with horses as Éomer had been when he was younger but the boy looked like Faramir. Éomer felt sick to his stomach when he woke up one night after the child’s birth from a dream where the child belonged to Éomer and Faramir rather than Éowyn. Éomer has hated himself most days, since.

A few months after his birthday he gets the news that his wife is pregnant again. Nine months later Elfwine is born and Lothíriel can’t stop bleeding. Éomer hates himself more for never truly having loved her.

\---

Éomer sat in his room in the dark a few months after his forty-third birthday. His sweet sister had died in a horse training accident a few weeks past. Faramir and Elboron were staying in Edoras. Éomer hated himself for hoping for something out of his sister’s death. He was beginning to understand that he had never really deserved Faramir’s love. He was selfish and lonely.

Faramir visited him in his bed chamber three months later. The man crawled into the bed and cuddled up to the king. Éomer pretended the man’s actions hadn’t woken him but his treacherous heart beat fast in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Faramir whispered. Éomer didn’t have the heart to pretend he didn’t hear.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into Faramir’s hair.

\---

The summer of Éomer’s forty-eighth year he married his sweet Faramir. Their boys became brothers and Gondor and Rohan where united once more through marriage. For two men well past their prime, Faramir and Éomer had a rather energetic wedding night. Éomer wouldn’t tell anyone but he was rather happy Faramir’s scratch marks scarred. Éomer did not think there was ever a time when he had been happier and an already flourishing Rohan continued on a steep uphill trajectory.

Éomer Éadig indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's to hoping this went well.


End file.
